As the bell rang, signaling the start of the lunch break, I let out a sigh. It was 10 a.m., and although it was still early in the day, I was already feeling the weight of everything on my mind. As the teacher left the classroom, I glanced at Yash, feeling a mix of anticipation and restlessness.
"Let's go wash our hands," I said casually, hoping to shake off the heavy thoughts that had been swirling in my head.
Yash nodded in agreement, and together we stood up, joining the small exodus of students filing out of the classroom. The room was already abuzz with the sound of chatter and the rustling of bags as everyone prepared for the break. I noticed Swara carefully tucking her books into her bag, her movements precise and deliberate, as always. She didn't rush, unlike the rest of us, who were eager to stretch our legs.
As we stepped outside, the bright sunlight hit my face, warming my skin instantly. I stretched my arms, feeling the tightness in my muscles ease slightly. The fresh air, combined with the warmth of the sun, gave me a small burst of energy. Yash and I started walking towards the bathroom, our steps casual, blending into the steady stream of boys heading the same way.
The corridor was crowded, full of male students pushing their way towards the bathroom. It was always like this during lunch breaks—a chaotic rush to the washroom as if everyone's hunger could wait a few more minutes. We maneuvered through the crowd, exchanging nods and brief smiles with a few familiar faces, but mostly we just kept moving, focusing on getting in and out as quickly as possible.
Inside the bathroom, it was packed. The usual scene—some boys hurriedly splashing water on their faces, others laughing and talking, their voices bouncing off the tiled walls. I rolled up my sleeves and washed my hands, the cold water bringing a sharp, refreshing contrast to the heat outside.
Once we were done, we made our way back to the classroom, pushing past the lingering crowd. The noise of students talking, the rhythmic footsteps echoing in the corridor, and the distant sound of birds outside created an oddly peaceful atmosphere. There was something comforting about the routine of school life, even if it sometimes felt suffocating. It was predictable, a bubble of simplicity before stepping into the real world.
As we stepped back into the classroom, the familiar hum of students chatting and eating their lunch filled the air. I noticed everyone was already settled, digging into their tiffins with enthusiasm. Yash and I walked toward our bench, and as we sat down, I could feel the weight of the day starting to lighten, the thought of a good meal making it easier to push aside the heavier things on my mind.
I reached into my bag and pulled out my lunch box, placing it on the desk in front of me. The small ritual of unzipping the lunchbox, the click of the container's lid as I opened it—it usually brought a sense of comfort. But today, as soon as I lifted the lid, my heart sank. Bitter melon.
I stared at the small pieces of green, their bitter taste already making my mouth tighten in protest. 'Why, Mom? Why today of all days?' I thought to myself, trying to mask my disappointment. Without a second thought, I closed the lunch box, resigning myself to skipping lunch altogether.
Seeing me snap the lid shut, Yash looked over, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you closing your lunch box? Aren't you going to eat?"
I sighed, leaning back in my seat, the bitter taste already lingering on my tongue even though I hadn't taken a bite. "It's bitter melon. I don't like it," I muttered, shaking my head.
Yash was about to respond, maybe to tease me as usual, but before he could say anything, a voice interrupted.
"You can eat this."
I turned, surprised, and saw Swara looking at me. She was holding out her lunch box, her expression as calm and unreadable as always. Her voice had cut through the noise of the classroom like it was meant just for me.
I glanced around, confused by the unexpected offer, then pointed at myself. "Are you talking to me?" I asked, half-expecting her to say it was meant for someone else.
But Swara didn't respond, nor did she acknowledge my question. Instead, she calmly placed her lunch box in front of me, then—without a word—took my lunch, opened it, and started eating. I just stared at her, my mind trying to catch up with what was happening. Did she just… take my lunch without asking?
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to react, but then my stomach growled, reminding me that I was still hungry. Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the lunch box she'd placed before me. The smell hit me first—delicious, warm, and inviting. I picked up a bite, and as soon as I tasted it, I realized it wasn't just good—it was amazing.
As I chewed, I couldn't help but notice Swara glancing at me from the corner of her eye. It was brief, but enough to make me wonder. Did she make this herself? I couldn't shake the thought, so I turned to her, smiling as I spoke.
"This is really good. You made it, didn't you?"
Hearing my comment, Swara gave a small, almost shy nod and returned to her meal with a faint smile tugging at her lips. Why is she smiling? I wondered. It wasn't the kind of expression I'd ever associated with her—stoic, composed Swara—who always seemed distant, even cold at times. It was almost unsettling, in a way that piqued my curiosity even more.
I hesitated for a moment, but then, unable to hold back, I spoke again. "Swara?" I said softly, and her eyes met mine, her usual guarded expression returning.
"Yeah?" she replied, her voice steady, but there was something beneath it—a tension, maybe.
"I don't know what happened… why you've never really talked to me since you came to our school two years ago. But by any chance," I paused, my words careful, "if I ever offended you, or did something—"
Before I could finish, Swara interrupted, her voice suddenly filled with urgency. "What are you saying? It's nothing like that! You didn't do anything."
There was an unfamiliar edge to her tone, almost as if she was worried I had misunderstood something. Her usual calm had cracked for a brief second, and it caught me off guard.
I blinked, trying to process her reaction. "Oh, okay," I said, trying to ease the tension. "I just wanted to be sure. So… don't worry about it."
Swara gave a small nod, Her shoulders relaxed slightly her focus shifting back to her lunch. But as I glanced around the room, I couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was watching us, like we were putting on some kind of show.
"What are you all staring at?" I finally said, waving a hand dismissively. "Eat your food, don't just sit there gawking."
There was a brief pause, then everyone quickly averted their gaze, pretending to be engrossed in their tiffins. But Yash, of course, was still staring at me, a smirk playing on his lips. I could feel his eyes on me before he even said anything.
"What?" I asked, half-expecting some ridiculous comment.
Yash leaned in, barely able to contain his curiosity. "I didn't know you and Swara were friends. She even gave you her lunch box."
Before I could respond, Swara's face darkened. She shot Yash a glare so sharp it could have cut through the awkwardness in the room. "Can't you eat your lunch quietly? Your voice is hurting my ears," she snapped, her tone biting.
I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. A singer's voice is hurting her ears? I thought, amused by the irony. Yash, usually quick with a comeback, looked momentarily stunned.
Yash's face reddened with anger. "What do you mean by that?" he snapped, glaring at Swara.
Without missing a beat, Swara slammed her hand on the bench, making a loud thud that caught everyone's attention. "I mean your voice sounds like a pig's, so shut up, or I swear I'll—"
Before she could finish, I quickly raised my hand, stepping in before things got out of control. "Alright, alright! Calm down, both of you. The lunch break's almost over. Let's just finish our food, okay?"
Swara, as if a switch had been flipped, immediately cooled down. She quietly glanced at her lunch, and without another word, started eating again, her earlier outburst seemingly forgotten. Yash, on the other hand, looked down at his food, his anger simmering but clearly deflated by the situation.
"I was just asking out of curiosity," he mumbled, almost defensively. "But it's none of my business."
Swara, her voice now calm and composed, simply said, "Curiosity kills."
I couldn't help but smile, the tension in the air fading as quickly as it had built. There was something about the way she had handled it that felt… strangely impressive. As I turned back to my own lunch, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Swara than I'd thought.
Yash remained silent, though I could feel him glancing at me occasionally, probably still confused by the whole situation. I shrugged it off and focused on my food, grateful that the drama had passed as we quietly ate together, the classroom slowly returning to its usual buzz.
As the school day wound down, the final bell rang sharply, signaling the end of classes. The teacher's voice cut through the chatter, "Please complete your homework; I'll be checking it tomorrow."
With that, the classroom erupted into a flurry of activity as students packed up their things. I slid my bag onto my shoulder, glancing over at Swara. "Thank you for the lunch, Swara," I said, giving her a warm smile.
She looked up from her desk, gave a slight nod, and then without a word, turned and walked out of the classroom. Shaking my head with a sigh, I turned my attention to Yash, who was still packing up his books. "Are you done?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He looked up, shrugged, and nodded. "Yeah, ready to go."
We exited the classroom and headed toward the school gate, the usual chatter of students filling the hallways. The sun was warm on my face as we stepped outside. It was a typical school day coming to an end, but there was a certain sense of anticipation in the air. I was already thinking about what I needed to do next—asking my father about the laptop, planning my future steps, and navigating this new chapter with its mix of challenges and opportunities.
As we walked, Yash started talking about some of the day's events, but my mind was already shifting toward what I needed to accomplish in the coming days.
As we walked towards the school gate, I spotted a sleek Jaguar XJ parked in front. Its polished exterior gleamed under the afternoon sun. "Hey, Yash," I said, nodding towards the car. "Isn't that a Jaguar XJ?"
Yash glanced over, a look of curiosity on his face. "I don't know."
Just then, Swara appeared, heading straight for the car. She opened the door with practiced ease and slid inside. My eyes widened. "Swara just got into that car. Is she... rich?"
Yash shrugged, clearly as puzzled as I was. "I didn't know."
I frowned, thinking out loud. "If Swara is rich, why is she in our small school?"
Yash shook his head, unsure. "I don't know."
I glanced at Yash, a bit frustrated by the lack of answers. "Do you know anything?"
He grinned, looking relaxed. "Well, I know that after going home, I'm going to take a nap."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously, Yash, you're useless."
He shot back with a smirk, "You too."
With a sigh, I accepted his teasing and we continued our walk home. Despite the curious revelation about Swara, the usual routine of heading back home and the impending conversation with my dad about the laptop kept me grounded. The day's events were a mix of revelations and the mundane, but they had set the stage for what lay ahead.
(Word's Count:-2076)